


her salvation

by elmshore



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elmshore/pseuds/elmshore
Summary: The battle is won, a victory achieved, and yet, even so, you know the truth: for Ava, this is no triumph.
Relationships: Detective/Ava du Mortain
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	her salvation

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on a gorgeous piece of [artwork](https://specialistagent-morgan.tumblr.com/post/638518663552630784/a-knight-ava-i-guess), and as a gift for an amazingly dear friend, who has been instrumental in keeping me going.

You find her on the battlefield, alone.

All the others are gone. Fled out of the deluge, seeking warmth and alcohol, or fallen to steel, drawing breath no more. 

But still, Ava remains.

Sword firmly in hand, knuckles white at the hilt, and she looks fierce, a myth brought to life. A sculpture made by divine hands, removed from mortals, and she is a force to be reckoned with, wild, above this existence. Her armor is stained by blood, polished metal tinted crimson, and her hair is loose, torn from its confines, a wild halo framing her face.

The battle is won, a victory achieved, and yet, even so, you know the truth: for Ava, this is no triumph.

No, all she sees are the lives needlessly lost, and for what? Petty squabbles between petty men, fighting over lands and titles they have no right to lay claim to. Humanity at its worst, cruel, despicable, _predictable_.

High above there is a flash of lightning, skitters across the sky in zigzagging tendrils, bright and terrible. A roar of thunder follows — booms, rattles the earth beneath your feet — and you wince, heart shuddering in your chest. Pushes past the shock and forges ahead, determined.

Crosses the distance, each step harder than the last. Your shoes are ruined by mud, a chill crawling up the backs of your legs, but it hardly matters — no, your focus is on the woman now standing before you, her lips set into a thin line and shoulders tight, body coiled, ready to shatter under the wrong touch, a heavy breath. 

Another burst of lightning and with it, Ava, in startling clarity. She is beautiful, tragically so.

Blonde hair clings to the sharp contours of her face, strands darkened by rain, and you reach for her, gently, carefully. Trace a thumb over the curve of her cheek — brush aside icy droplets that race down your fingers, narrowly avoid a smudge of blood just under her right eye, and the color is so very stark against her pale skin — and those eyes, green as the ivy which grows along the sides of her home, weaving through brick and mortar, snap to your own.

Holds your gaze, dares you to look away first — but you remain steadfast, stubborn.

“Ava,” your voice is soft, a murmur carried on the wind, and yet it might as well have been a shout, for the way it affects her. You watch as the woman before you crumbles, breaks, jagged pieces coming undone and all that you can do is catch her, hold on tight.

Lips ghost along your collarbone, featherlight, and warm breath drifts over the hollow of your throat — hitches, stalls, and your heart clenches, aches. Strong arms wind around you, firm hands press against your lower back, and Ava pulls you closer, tries to bury herself within your hold, to climb inside of you and find a soft place to rest.

And over and over, whispered against your skin, “What have I done?”

The words twist sharply, a blade in your heart. Leaves you bloody, bruised, broken. You pull back, hands rising to cup Ava’s face and it hurts, to meet that sorrowful gaze, but you never falter. Instead, you shake your head and say, “What you had to, nothing more, nothing less.”

“I am a monster.”

“Oh, my love,” you tug her down, let your foreheads press together, and feel her inhale, breath quivering, body trembling. “You are no monster, dearheart, you are only human.”

Her lips taste of grief, of battle — salt and rainwater and blood, strong, sharp — and it burns you, but still, you kiss her, show her with actions what words will never be enough to say. And she falls into you, meets you fully, desperately. 

Ava seeks something from you that she cannot find within herself, and perhaps it no longer exists, but you think it does — only that it is hidden, buried under the weight of her pain.

She is a woman shaped by war, and you are her salvation.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and/or comments are appreciated! I'm also on [tumblr!](https://elmshore.tumblr.com/)


End file.
